


a first impression is a lasting one

by liamozes



Category: Space Force (Netflix)
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, adrian pov, author attempts to be humourous, could be pre-slash, these two i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24618940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liamozes/pseuds/liamozes
Summary: Doctor Adrian Mallory meets General Mark Naird.He decides General Naird is a straight, married-with-kids military douche who cares too much about his one major combat achievement, thinks he is a ‘good person’ because he pauses for ten seconds to pray before ordering his soldiers to drop bombs upon an entire village, and they were never going to be friends.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	a first impression is a lasting one

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I know nothing about space-related science, so that is kept to a minimum.

“So this is the scientist,” A broad American accent rings out. The man speaking stops, takes his ridiculous hat off, and executes a textbook parade rest in front of one Doctor Adrian Mallory. 

Adrian is known for his split-second evaluation of human beings in certain circles and is significantly more accurate when he has already read his target’s partially unredacted life story. He decides General Naird is a straight, married-with-kids military douche who cares too much about his one major combat achievement, thinks he is a ‘good person’ because he pauses for ten seconds to pray before ordering his soldiers to drop bombs upon an entire village, and they were never going to be friends. There is more to him than the first impression, as with every other human being, but Adrian is not dying to find out what.

“General Naird, I presume,” He says slowly in a way he knows infuriates fast-talking and enthusiastically-gesturing politicians. 

“That’s correct,” The man smiles slightly, extending a large hand. His bespectacled lackey lingers a few steps behind, anxiously peering over his boss’s broad shoulders. “Good afternoon, Doctor Mallory. Thank you for being here.”

_An army in space._ Adrian wants to spit in this general’s grinning face. Instead, he takes a deep breath and takes the man’s callused hand. The man’s attractive smile grows even wider. 

“Let me take a photo of this historic moment,” Someone says. 

Naird points to the man with dark, slick-backed hair, wearing a dove-grey suit and a skinny tie who rises from one of the side sofas. He had stayed silent the whole time and had been dismissed by Adrian. “Here’s Tony, my media manager.”

“A meeting of two like minds, brought together for the sake of American citizens,” The man crouches to get the perfect angle for a photograph to be distributed to the press. He is thankful he had worn his flattering brown suede suit today. “That’s it. You look alright, General. C’mon, Doc, give us a nice, _approachable_ smile.”

Adrian pointedly does not. 

Tony goes on. “One is Space. The other is Force.”

There is the click of a phone camera and the man is already walking out of the room without a farewell, typing on his phone at a-mile-a-minute. 

“Thanks, Tony,” Naird calls out to the retreating figure. He says to Adrian. “The President is very keen on your appointment. It’s great to meet the person who’s going to help us get a special squadron up there in four years.”

“I’m sure that’s what you had in mind when he created Space Force,” He says politely. _Prick_. 

“And also exploration- that’s important too,” Naird adds hastily. “Science stuff.”

He desperately wants to roll his eyes, and waits until the lackey has leaned in to mutter in the man’s ear, distracting him, to do so. _This is the man appointed to lead a ‘military’ department focused on space, the great unknown?_

“- he’s a good replacement for Doctor Thakkur,” Adrian manages to catch the end of Naird’s whispered conversation with his assistant. He doesn’t know the assistant’s name yet? _Is it Chad? Glad? Something blandly American._ “I could schedule biweekly meetings with him at Outback if you want-”

“Shut up, Brad,” General Naird says loudly. Adrian tilts his head. “I’ll talk with you later.”

“Yessir,” Brad mumbles as he slinks out of the room. His clipboard is held tightly against his chest as though he was afraid someone would try to take it from him forcefully. 

Naird then launches into a monologue regarding America’s objectives in space, as though Adrian hadn’t been interrogated enough about it in three separate sessions during his interview. He was surprised there had been interviews in the first place, because of the assumption that the agency was so desperate for employees they would pick up the nearest pseudoscientists they could get their meaty hands on. By ‘America’, he supposes the General meant this administration. 

He is far more interested in the promising moon habitation experiment the science department was planning to set-up in a few weeks than this rant on American military supremacy. However, since he was stuck in this one-sided conversational purgatory, he daydreams about a Hawaiian vacation with a striking man (age indeterminate, but he has kind eyes) on a beach. 

Just as his imaginary companion reaches for him over the table of daiquiris, Naird says clearly. “We cannot afford to show any weakness to our enemies, mainly China. The rest of them aren’t considered top-level threats, but maybe Russia as well. Our intelligence indicates their space agency has shown an interest towards what we’re doing here-”

“If I could get a word in, General,” Adrian says mildly, interrupting Naird mid-sentence. 

“Go ahead,” Naird says, looking curious and shockingly not annoyed at all after being interrupted. 

“I have not had the chance to enter the main control room yet, or check out the science labs.”

“Ah, yes!” There is a pause. “Well, I could take you to see Doctor Chan- a Chinese fella- at the control centre. The labs are still being refitted. We’ve only started operations a few weeks ago, which is why some equipment hasn’t arrived yet. Sadly Doctor Thakkur had to resign because of a tiny issue-” _with the colour of his skin_ , Adrian thinks to himself. “-and immediately left the state of Colorado. You’ll be going straight into the fire, as they say. Leaves you without a tour guide, actually.”

Adrian raises his eyebrows. 

Naird’s features form an expression in-between guilt and frustration, before smoothing over. “I’ll happily show you to your new office.”

“I was there thirty minutes ago,” Adrian replies. It had taken him thirteen minutes to get from the science building to the administration building, which was an inconvenient arrangement. “It is quite the walk.”

“We’ll go to the control room downstairs then. Make introductions. Rub shoulders,” Naird says with a strange shimmy of his upper body. It is a movement at odds with the seriousness of his neatly-pressed, dark-azure uniform. 

“That would be ideal,” Adrian says, ignoring that movement. 

“I’ve got to tell you something,” Naird says when they walk towards the newly-finished control centre. “Honestly, I don’t know the first thing about space.”

Adrian flicks his eyes in his direction. “It cannot be more obvious that your expertise lies in… other areas. Thank you for being honest about it.”

The man laughs once. A single beat of forced mirth. “That’s right. God knows why they put me in charge of this.”

“Indeed.”

“Have you seen those photos of galaxies,” Naird makes an expanding photo-frame gesture with his hands. “Space is _incredibly_ big.”

The satirist Douglas Adams would agree with him.

“The size of the entire space is unknown, though the radius of the observable universe is estimated to be 46.5 billion light years.”

Naird frowns, visibly puzzled. 

So, Adrian explains. “A light year is a measure of the distance light travels in one Earth year. The length of one is almost 9 trillion kilometres or almost 5.88 trillion miles when the American metric system is applied.”

“Huh,” Naird raises his head, nose scrunched up. 

“Space _is_ big,” Adrian says. “You are correct in such a declaration.”

There is a short silence between them. 

“You’re going to love it here,” Naird says cheerfully. The soldiers- _spacemen-_ salute when they pass and he nods back sharply. “It feels like a NASA building. Not that I’ve ever been there, of course.”

“Of course,” Adrian echoes. 

They step inside the control room. Naird holds the door open for him, the picture of a perfect gentleman. 

“Thank you.”

“Here it is.” 

Adrian admits that it did not look like much yet. He sniffs the air and smells a hint of Febreeze. Half of the stations were covered in white cloth, some screens were still showing nothing but black, and there were only three scientists in white coats present. That must be the main team. 

Naird glances at him. “What do you think?”

“It seems promising.”

“Hey,” An Asian man wearing brown glasses greets them. He pushes his own up the bridge of his nose. “I’m Doctor Chan Kaifang.”

“This is Doctor Adrian Mallory,” Naird says, introducing Adrian for him. “Our new Chief Scientist.”

“Call me Doctor Mallory,” Adrian says with a friendly nod. If he remembered correctly, Chan was an astro-botanist. 

He is introduced by Doctor Chan to Doctors Wolf and Chandreshekar. They exchange brief handshakes. Adrian is about to embark on a journey of space discovery with these experienced scientists. 

“I expect all of you to treat Doctor Mallory well,” Naird says, incapable of keeping his mouth shut for long. He addresses the audience of four, including Adrian, solemnly. “Make sure this clever person settles in with you clever people. Get him involved in all the experiments and _please_ listen to his opinions. If you know it’s going to be over-budget, don’t even start it- unless it has something to do with thrusters. Somehow we have over fifty million allocated to that purpose. I mean, is it an over- or under-estimate?”

“I would say both,” Chan says vaguely. Adrian agrees. Naird has a look of genuine confusion on his face. _Idiot_. 

Adrian says. “Is that all?”

“Don’t forget about Taco Tuesdays,” Naird says with another smile. 

“Taco Tuesdays are a thing?” Chan asks excitedly. 

“So are Soft Serve Sundays.”

“Really?” Chan asks hopefully. 

“No,” Naird replies, and Chan’s face falls. After a moment, he continues. “I’ll see if I could make it a thing. We’ve got the ‘staff welfare’ budget for it. Let’s not waste it.”

“Thanks, Sir,” Chan grins. 

Naird slaps him hard on the back, causing him to flinch. Adrian hopes the man would not do the same to him. He disliked unnecessary touching. 

There is a knock on the glass door. The lackey, Brad, is gesturing urgently at the General and making a phone-shape with his hands. _Call from Blandsmith_ , he mouths, mustache moving. It is unexpectedly comical. 

Naird gives a long-suffering sigh. Adrian finds that he could relate. 

“I believe SecDef is asking me to give him the latest developments on the base. I’ll report to him you’re transitioning smoothly, Doctor.”

The General raises his hand, preparing to give Adrian a buddy-buddy shoulder slap. He shoots him a dark look, daring the other man to try it. Naird withdraws his right hand and clenches it into a fist. _You are not my buddy._

“It’s good to have you on our team,” Naird says stiffly, pressing his arms to his sides. 

“I am glad to be here,” Adrian replies neutrally. 

“This is hella awkward,” He hears Chandreshekar mutter to Wolf. 

“Ten on an argument within a week,” She says conspiratorially. 

“In three days,” He says. “And in his office.”

When he turns, they are both staring at their computer screens like diligent employees. 

“I would not bet on that,” Adrian says loudly. The two scientists do not acknowledge him. Naird doesn’t even seem to catch this exchange. 

“Can’t keep SecDef waiting,” Chan chimes in. The General dips his head. 

Something pops up on the main screen, which had previously been defaulted to the rocket Space Force logo. Adrian and Naird raise their heads to look. 

“We’ve got a live-stream from one of our satellites,” Chan explains. 

“It’s beautiful.”

Those quiet words had come from Naird. The video on the screen was of the blue marble itself. It was round and majestic, seemingly untainted by men. Adrian had seen similar scenes for the past thirty years and has since grew weary of it. He was fascinated with what lies beyond Earth, namely the stars and the infinite galaxies. While he is not aligned with Space Force values, he could not deny the thrill of sending men and women to the moon and one day to Mars. 

“What do you see, Doctor?” Naird asks softly, tearing his eyes away from the screen. 

Adrian answers calmly. “It is a great view. The mysteries of space travel await us.”

“Do you know what I see?” Naird shakes a finger at the screen. “I see the people on our planet who need protecting. Against the mysterious universe, every one of us is so small in comparison. Scientists are focused on making sense of it. They forget about the people here who depend on the research our organisation is going to do. I really hope you won’t.”

Adrian swallows. 

The General had been observing him as Adrian had with him. Naird’s gaze is not disapproving, merely considering. Was this how he looked at recruits, asking them to put his faith in him and the American way of life, with the kind eyes of a veteran? He wonders what the man sees when he stands in front of Adrian. _Does he feel like he knows me already?_

“I wouldn’t be here if I would.” 

The reply seems to satisfy Naird. He nods curtly at the scientists. “Get back to work.”

The General walks briskly out of the room, likely going to speak with the Secretary of Defense in private. Brad’s expression is frantic. He had delayed it in order to speak with Adrian and look at the ‘beautiful’ Earth. Adrian is uncertain whether that was good or bad. His heart goes with the former and his head the latter. He likes Naird just a little bit more.

“Everyone, listen up please,” He says to the three other people in the room, looking to him for leadership. “Here’s where we should begin…”

**Author's Note:**

> doctor mallory sounds like spock lmao
> 
> I love Mark and Adrian's dynamic. They're like platonic work husbands. But then... maybe something more?
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos. Thanks for reading!!


End file.
